I flung out of chapel and church
Temple and hall an meeting-room
Venus' Bower and Osiris' Tomb,
and left the devil in the lurch,
While God got lost in the crowd of gods,
And soul went down in the turbid tide
Of the metaphysical Lotus-eyed,
And I was -- anyhow, what's the odds? [...]
Yet by-and-by I hope to weave
A song of Anti-Christmas Eve
And First- and Second-Beast-er Day. There's one who loves me dearly (vrai!)
Who yet believes me sprung from Tophet,
Either the Beast…